Ronnie Anne's master plan was finally all set by the time she saw Lincoln's house coming into sights. A few blocks ago, she had been so engrossed in her inner thoughts that she accidentally ventured into the flower bed in someone's front lawn, costing her both valuable time and some of her dignity when the angry, elderly home owner ran out and chewed her out for being careless.
Still, if getting yelled at by an old woman meant that she was one step closer towards her goal of teaching Lincoln an unforgettable lesson, she'd purposefully walk on a dozen flower beds to make it happen, daises and roses be damned.
In no time at all, Ronnie Anne was in front of the Loud house's door. She reached out and knocked on it before stuffing her hand back in the front pocket of her purple hoodie, eagerly waiting for someone to answer it. She was taken aback by how quick the response to her beck was but not displeased because who would open the door for her but the youngest Loud, Lily?
Ronnie Anne took a real liking to Lily, mostly because of the person she was growing up to be and the childishly amusing antics attached to her disposition. Maybe it was the influence of Lincoln's Ace Savvy comics or maybe it was her own natural inclination to a good mystery but she had taken up the role as "Detective Lily" ever since she looked into the mystery of where Charles' bone was hidden a few months ago. Along with speaking in a Brooklyn accent and using gumshoe vernacular, she'd also wear a typical hard-boiled detective ensemble: a brown trench coat, black gloves, and a brown trilby that partially covered her eyes.
By the looks of things, it appeared as if Ronnie Anne had accidentally intruded in on a case that "Detective Lily" was in the middle of because she was greeted with a hard glare from the wannabe gumshoe but one that wasn't laced with genuine malice but rather one that transparently tried to command an authoritative presence.
Ronnie Anne couldn't help but smirk at the adorable display in front of her. She supposed she could humor Lily for a few minutes before dealing with her boyfriend.
She squatted down until she was at eye level with the six-year-old and smiled brightly at her, taking in Lily's unfaltering stare.
"Oh, hey, Lily. May I come i-"
"Have a seat on the couch, Miss Santiago," Lily demanded briskly as she pointed to the couch in the living room. "I've got a few questions for you."
Ronnie Anne stood up, unfazed by Lily's assertiveness, and acquiesced to her request.
"Certainly, Detective," says Ronnie Anne with mock somberness before she follows the diminutive "detective" to the couch.
Once they're both seated, Lily pulls out a notepad and pencil from the inside of her trench coat and poses the pencil's point an inch away from the paper as she looks up at Ronnie Anne.
"Where were you this Friday afternoon between the hours of 12 PM EST and 3 PM EST?" Lily questions, not taking her eyes off the teenager.
"At school," Ronnie Anne confidently affirms.
"Is that so?" Lily asks incredulously as she scribbles down notes on her notepad.
Once she's done with that, she puts the notepad aside and crawls on the couch until she's right in Ronnie Anne's face, doing her best to look as threatening as possible. She's miffed when all Ronnie Anne can do is smile at her attempt to intimidate but masks her irritation as best she can.
"Funnily enough, you, Lisa, Lucy, Lola, Lana, and Lincoln all happened to give me the same alibi. I wouldn't be moseying into some sort of conspiracy, would I?" Lily inquires with an arched eyebrow and a cocky sneer.
"But weren't you at school between 12 PM EST and 3 PM EST?" Ronnie Anne counters with a condescending chuckle. "Wouldn't that make you just as suspicious as us?"
Lily splutters at how her logic was torn asunder so effortlessly but does her best to regain her composure despite being backed into a corner.
"Hey! I'm the gumshoe! I do the interrogatin', see?!"
Ronnie Anne throws her hands up defensively, humoring the pretend private eye further. Lily, on the other hand, seeing as how she was left with no other option, had to resort to her final plan of attack! Reaching into her trench coat once more, she retrieves a blue flashlight and points it inches away from Ronnie Anne's face.
"You may be a quick-witted dame but I know one of 'em gave you lettuce to button yer trap! So you better snitch now while you still c-
"Lily!"
Both Ronnie Anne and Lily sharply turned their heads to follow where the raspy sounding voice came from and find the usual grubby half of the Loud twins, adorned with her signature red baseball cap worn backwards, black overalls, and a brown tool belt apron, about five feet away from them. Said half had her arms crossed, one of her feet tapping the floor, and glowering in the direction of the now nervous Lily, who isn't quick enough to hide the flashlight behind her back.
"What've I told you about using my flashlight when you play pretend as a detective?" Lana questions testily.
At the words "play pretend", as well as the stifled snickering from Ronnie Anne, Lily responds indignantly at how her professionalism is undermined from all sides.
"I'm not pretending, Lana!" Lily objects with aplomb. "I'm in the middle of a serious investigation!"
Lana simply rolls her eyes and walks over until she's right in front of her. Her hard gaze has softened by now but leaves just enough irritation to let Lily know that play time is over.
"Sure, whatever. Just give me my flashlight, please. The boiler in the basement needs fixin' and I need the light," Lana asks with an outstretched hand.
Grumbling all the while, Lily surrenders that flashlight to Lana but isn't through with her detective demeanor at all.
"Fine. I'll play by your rules for now, dear sister, but don't think I'm not wise to your tricks! I'll get the truth someh-"
"By the way," Lana interrupts casually, "I know who ate your slice of the leftover strawberry cheesecake. It was Dad."
Lily sharply gasps at the reveal, too stunned by the bomb dropped on her to be mad that Lana divulged the truth to her before she could catch the perpetrator herself.
"M-my own father?!" Lily squeaks, all traces of her Brooklyn accent gone, as she holds onto the sides of her face. "He…he wouldn't! He's supposed to be dieting!"
"Well, he did," Lana flatly states with a shrug. "I saw him eating it in the kitchen earlier. The only reason I didn't tell you before is because I know you hate it when someone gives away the answer to a "crime" before you can figure things out but then you started using my flashlight to threaten Ronnie Anne, which is a big 'no-no'. You know what Lincoln would say if he caught you doing that, wouldn't you?"
Images of an angry Lincoln berating her flash in Lily's mind, making the youth tremble in her shoes. Lincoln rarely got angry at her and it was something that she dreaded even more than getting sick and having to drink that nasty cherry cough syrup! And beyond that, she got carried away and grilled someone very close to Lincoln.
Turning back to Ronnie Anne, Lily bows her head in shame and looks up at her former prime suspect with watery eyes and a trembling bottom lip.
"S-sorry, Ronnie Anne," Lily apologizes with a sniffle.
Ronnie Anne swoons and holds back the urge to reach down and pinch Lily's cheeks. Only she could get away with threatening to blind her with a flashlight. Not even Lincoln could pull that off without getting a sharp punch in the arm and he'd be the lucky one out of anyone who would try that stunt.
Instead of cheek pinching, Ronnie Anne resorts to lightly bopping Lily on the nose with one finger, eliciting a tiny giggle from her in the process.
"S'alright," Ronnie Anne pardons. "I'm just sorry your Dad ate your cake behind your back like that."
In a flash, Lily reverts to a highly-sprung investigator, tightening her fists into balls and snarling angrily.
"Curses! I should've known he'd used his parental bond to play me for a rube!"
With that, Lily leaps off the couch and makes a beeline for the stairs.
"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaad!" Lily yells in her mad dash up the stairs as her voice carries off in the distance.
Once Lily is safely out of earshot, Lana and Ronnie Anne start laughing at the amusing spectacle for a good thirty seconds. Soon enough, it's Lana that's the first to break away from the merriment, casting Ronnie Anne a look that exuded foreboding.
"So anyways, you're here to see Lincoln, right? Hate to break it to ya but he's holed up in his room reading comic books. You know his rule about that, right?"
Ronnie Anne smirks haughtily. Oh, she knows about his rule, alright, but she's sure that Lincoln will be flexible enough to reconsider his draconian law once she's convinced him to let her stay.
"Sure, I do, but guess what, Lana?" Ronnie Anne asks before she leans in closer to Lana until the mischief in her eyes is as clear as day to the tool wielding technician. "I'm gonna break it anyway."
Lana's eyes widen, mouth agape. She reels back from the teenager with an apparent death wish on her special bond with Lincoln. She knew firsthand that only his parents could intrude on Lincoln's comic boom private time with anything they wanted from their son, no emergency needed. When Lincoln wished to convert his room into his secluded, comic book reading paradise, that meant that no other exceptions were allowed.
"Seriously?" Lana asked disbelievingly. "Alright but don't act shocked when Lincoln gets mad at you. I may be a plumber but not even I can fix broken relationships."
Ronnie Anne waves off the warning loftily.
"It'll be fine, Lana, but can you tell me if his door's unlocked before you go?"
"It is," Lana attests. "Since he only wants to be bothered if there's an emergency, he keeps it unlocked for us when we need him but only when we need him."
Ronnie Anne inwardly cackles gleefully. This would be even easier than she thought. No need to resort to picking the lock. Since Lincoln was probably too engrossed in his books to take notice of his surroundings, she could probably sneak in undetected, an occurrence that would be even better than what she anticipated; Lincoln spotting her instantly.
"Thanks, Lana. That's all I needed to hear. Good luck with the boiler," Ronnie Anne encourages as Lana turns to head off to the basement.
"Thanks. Good luck with the brother," Lana enthusiastically emboldens, marching off to her goal in the basement.
Ronnie Anne waits until Lana is out of sight before she starts stewing in her wicked thoughts, wringing her hands together and chortling as she did so.
Luck? Ronnie Anne didn't need luck! Lincoln was prime pickings for her the plotting of her devious brain to bend him to her will and she'd make sure he knew how lucky he was to have her by the end of the day!
Lincoln sighed contently as he nestled closer into his bed, flipping the first page of Issue #2 of the thirteen-part story, "Ace Savvy vs. The Purple Purloiner". It was quite the saga to behold and one that Lincoln hoped would have a satisfying conclusion. The last issue ended with a bank teller dying behind the desk during the day, with everyone looking on as he dropped dead. There were no stab wounds, gunshot wounds, or lacerations. The only peculiar mark of distinction on his corpse was a purple lipstick smooch print on his neck, right above the jugular vein. Along with the dead body came the realization from the security guards that the contents of the bank's vault were completely cleaned out.
Before reaching for Issue #2, Lincoln pondered on the scenario, trying to figure out how the crime could've happened the way it did. Lincoln first guessed that the lipstick had some sort of poison that could seep into the skin and kill the victim. That theory was thrown out the window when Lincoln realized that even if the criminal, clearly the Purple Purloiner, could protect themselves from the lipstick's poison, that didn't explain how the bank teller was completely fine on one panel and dead in the very next one, with no suspicious characters around him to murder him. And that also didn't explain how the vault could get cleaned out so quickly without anyone noticing.
Lincoln surmised that perhaps, someone embedded with the ability to travel faster than the human eye could've done such a thing but none of Ace Savvy's known rogues gallery were capable of such a feat except for the Blue Hurricane and Red Magma, whom were both behind bars. Perhaps, Lincoln thought to himself in that moment in time, the Purple Purloiner was an associate of theirs? It could be possible since her name had a color theme to it, too, and red and blue mixed together did make purple. Although Lincoln was quick to latch onto that possibility, he discarded it almost entirely; that would be way too obvious!
Whatever the case was, Lincoln was happy that he was enjoying himself, taking the mystery one step at a time and coming up with possible outcomes at his own leisure. Lincoln wasn't antisocial by any means but very few things could beat being laid out in the comfort of his own bed, wearing nothing but his socks and boxers as he read new issues of comic books about his favorite superhero of all time. Admittedly, he did feel a twinge of guilt for shooting down Ronnie Anne earlier but he knew she wouldn't mind, at least not too much. He always got teased for liking those "dorky picture books" but from what Lincoln could tell, it was all just jovial banter and nothing malicious from her end.
As he continued to attend to the matter at hand, his focus completely on the story in front of him, his ears weren't attuned to the slight creaking of his door opening, followed by the dull clunk of it shutting and finally, the piercing click of his lock switching into place. He did take notice, however, when his bed shifted and weight settled on top of his lower half, within the space between his outstretched legs and right behind the comic book that he had in front of his face.
Lincoln squeaked, startled at the intrusion but then grumbled when he realized what had happened. Apparently, someone had decided to test their luck by sneaking into his room, obviously to scare him. Although the intruder succeeded in doing so, at least for a few seconds anyway, he wasn't about to let them get off scot free for barging into his haven.
He turned to the side of his bed to place his unfinished comic book on the floor, along with his other stack. Clearly, one of his sisters needed to be taught a lesson in privacy and he would be sure to let them have it. Turning back to face his interloper, Lincoln steeled himself in preparation for the task at hand…
…only for his heart to nearly soar out of his chest in startled panic at the realization of who his trespasser really was. There, perched oh-so innocently between his legs, chin resting on his abdomen, and hands on either side of his body, was none other than his girlfriend, Ronnie Anne Santiago, gazing at him with a stare that held so much promiscuity, so much pomp, so much…promise.
"Hiiiiiiiiii, Lincy," Ronnie Anne drawled huskily, batting her eyes as she did so. When her boyfriend can do nothing but stutter and shake in response, Ronnie Anne takes the initiative, pressing her lips down across his chest, delighting in how his face scrunches in blissful agony.
"R-Ronnie Anne?" Lincoln manages to muster through the foggy haze of his desire. "W-what are you…d-doing here?"
It was a loaded question and Ronnie Anne knew it. He not only wanted to know what she as doing here but what she was doing her intruding on him when she knew it was forbidden. She's more than eager to answer him and tease him further while she did so.
Leaving his chest, she decides to give him a playful bite into his neck and slowly drag her teeth down his skin until she's at his collarbone. His moans do not go unappreciated.
"Well," Ronnie Anne begins as she looks him in the eye, "since you completely blew me off for your dorky picture books, I figured I'd come down here and see what all the fuss was about for myself."
That wasn't entirely true but Ronnie Anne isn't above leading him on for just a little bit. No, not in this case.
Taking advantage of his stupefied, baffled state further, Ronnie Anne shimmies upwards, dragging her body along Lincoln's and pressing down where she knows he aches for her the most. By the time her tantalizing ascent is over, she's sitting on his lap, hands flat on his chest, and her nose slightly bumping up against his own. All the same, though, she's flattered that he appears to be intoxicated by her haughty gaze more than anything else.
"So, tell me, Lincoln," Ronnie Anne whispers before lightly pecking him on the lips. "What's happened so far?"
While she waits for him to answer, a difficult task when he's occupied with stuttering a string of syllables and guttural noises, Ronnie Anne drags the fingernails of one of her hands up and down his stomach, watching in amusement at the way it twitches and flutters under her ministrations. She takes a quick peek up at her boyfriend and smirks at how his head is thrown back and how hard he's panting. The cute blush that encompasses his entire face and neck was a pretty neat bonus, too.
"Come on, Lincoln," she poses once more, "tell me. I'm dying to know."
She gets another moan for her troubles when her other hand traces the curve of his right ear before she grabs it in a soft pinch. She leans into that ear and murmurs, "I know you can do it,", then tugs on the earlobe a little for good measure.
"You're…y-you're," Lincoln stammers, then groans when Ronnie Anne takes his pinched ear and gives it a slow lick, "m-making it r-really hard t-to…t-"
"Making it hard, huh? I'll say," the temptress elates as she rocks her hips back and forth, rubbing her bottom firmly against the object of her double entendre.
Lincoln hisses with teeth gritted and toes curled but finds the resolve to forge onward with a query that he's barely able to make comprehensible. Ronnie Anne is able to understand and gives her captive some reprieve by ceasing her grinding and giving him answers.
"Why am I doing this? I'm glad you asked."
Ronnie Anne reaches down off the bed and puts the comic that Lincoln tossed aside right next to him. Lincoln's eyes never leave Ronnie Anne at all during the process as the curiosity to see her next move completely engulfs him.
"I'm here to prove that you can enjoy my company while you read your comic books, Lincoln. It's really that simple."
She lowers herself downwards, not looking away from Lincoln for even a second, until she's right in front of her destination: his dark blue boxers. Lincoln's eyes widen in realization at what he thinks Ronnie Anne was getting at. She wanted to do…that to him while he read Issue #2 and all because he wanted some peace and quiet to himself! He never meant to imply that he'd take Ronnie Anne for granted when he asked for some "me time" but Ronnie Anne didn't seem to take it that way, prompting her to initiate this somewhat awkward but very pleasing situation.
"You mean you want to…y'know…" Lincoln falters, not able to let his dirty thoughts carry out in the open in the form of words.
The smirk he gets for his troubles makes his heart flutter and face redden even more than it already has.
"Yep," Ronnie Anne confirms. "That's exactly what I mean. Glad you're catching on."
Lincoln's mind is made up now. Reading Ace Savvy comic books was a pleasure in of itself but having it supplemented by Ronnie Anne's delightful attention made the thought of him reading his comic books without her an obsolete concept.
There was just one small problem though…
"What about the thin walls?" Lincoln asks in a hushed tone.
The last thing he needed was for anyone to pick up on what was going on behind closed doors because of him. Now more than ever, he wished that the Loud house wasn't constructed with such inconveniently flimsy material. He's thankful when the answer literally hits him in the face.
"Just use your pillow to muffle the noise," Ronnie Anne responds after throwing the pillow behind Lincoln in his face. "Now then, if we're done with the excuses, you mind if I get to work?"
She chuckles when she gets a hasty shake of the head in a desperate reply.
"Atta boy," she mirthfully answers before she takes her fingers and hooks the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down far enough for her to get at her prize.
For the next fifteen minutes or so, Lincoln is challenged on a whole new level as he reads Issue #2 and it's a challenge that he's eager to take up whenever Ronnie Anne wants. Meanwhile, Ronnie Anne hopes to break her record of pillow muffled whimpers she can get out of Lincoln in a minute. Five was nothing to be ashamed of but she's sure she can do better. Even if she can't, she's still pleased by her flawless victory of a battle that she won by doing nothing but hitting below the belt.
A/N: So yeah, I really pushed it with that T rating, didn't I? Hope I don't have the Guideline Guild breaking down my door and putting me in cuffs.
Sorry to disappoint those who wanted a lemon but…yeah, not doing that here. They're not allowed. Now, I'm not gonna be a whistleblower and start calling out people who do them but they're really not supposed to be posted here and I'm not gonna run the risks of defying the almighty guidelines by doing that.
Anyways, bonus points to those who can figure out the fictional characters I'm referring to with the names "Blue Hurricane" and "Red Magma". Go on, guess! No cheating, though. I can tell when you use search engines and Wikipedia. ;)